Happy New Year
by Oeil du Soleil aka The Critic
Summary: The product of writer's block. It's a sweet, somewhat cheesy New Years celebration. Read, please? I'll love you FOREVER. Rated safely.


**Author's note: **This is a result of incurable writer's block. It isn't very good, but I was ashamedly inspired by _my _pathetic fantasies.So, bear with me, alright?

**Disclaimer: **To my intense dismay JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, and stuff. I merely write for my health.

**Happy New Year**

They stood there together in the cold. There was a huge crowd, families, couples, and friends all gathered to witness the arrival of a new year. The snow was falling lightly, enough to create an image similar to a postcard.

Hermione drew her cloak closer to her a bit. Every bone, every fibre in her body was freezing, aching. Crying to move inside, and watch this from the telly. Every part of her except for her right hand---the one he held. She gave his hand a slight squeeze, and when he returned it, she felt a temporary warmth float up her arm and through her body.

Who would've thought that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy would be standing here together on this night, holding hands like the lovers that they were? Surely not Ms. Granger; Ms. Independent.

Oh, _never_.

Hermione let out a sigh thinking of those days at Hogwarts when she first felt so strong feelings toward him.

Granted, it was that of blinding hatred. But, whatever.

_Ten minutes_

Their first kiss. It was completely unexpected. In fact, _she _kissed _him _(though he likes to tell it the other way around). It was summer, and they were in Diagon Alley. Yes, she remembered. She had opened the door right on his face and to make it better, ever so lightly…kissed him on the lips.

Their first time. It was beautiful and romantic. The way their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, completing each other. Amazing.

She couldn't _wait _for this year to be over. This was the year The War ended. This was the year the Wizarding World won, and lost. This was the year where darkness seemed perpetual, and the soft light of hope seemed ever receeding.

And it was almost over.

She wanted to start next year with a bang. Start it right. That would be her resolution.

_Five minutes_

The ball that was to be dropped lit up, illuminating the awed faces of the crowd. Some gasped, and some children sighed 'oohs' and 'aahs', clapping in delight. Hermione turned her head a little to her left. There, an elderly couple stood, holding each other. The man was stroking his wife's hand murmuring, "Fifty years, dear," the woman smiled, but remained silent, "Fifty years."

The man looked up and met Hermione's eyes. He smiled in a fatherly way, and nudged the woman. She looked up, surveying Hermione and Draco, and her eyes misted over, "It's like a memory," she whispered.

_One minute_

The ball began its descent. The crowd began chattering, some chanting the countdown already. Above all the noise, Hermione heard the one voice that stopped her world call her name.

"Hermione…"

Looking up, she saw his eyes. His silver eyes that looked into her very soul. Those eyes that destroyed her shell, and unleashed her passion. They held that warmth, and that care that made her want to cry, but they also held something else. He looked nervous and his smile was a bit strained.

_Ten_

"Yes?" she asked, smiling.

"I don't know how to do this--," he said softly, almost inaudible, "I guess I'd better do it now."

_Nine_

She didn't say anything. She squeezed his hand, a sign for him to continue. He merely shook his head, "Later," was all he muttered.

_Eight_

She turned back to the ball falling unbearably slowly, disconcerted. He didn't seem sure of him self. He's _always _sure of himself.

_Seven_

Psh, men

_Six_

He tugged on her hand again. Once more, she turned around with her eyebrows raised in expectation. He opened his mouth, ready to say whatever it is he was desperate to say, then thought better of it, and closed his mouth, his eyes trained resolutely to the descending ball.

_Five_

The crowd grew louder; every one was chanting the countdown, including Hermione.

_Four_

She pumped her fist in the air with everyone else, anticipating the New Year.

_Three_

"Hermione…"

This time she was thoroughly annoyed. She whipped her head around to glare at the infuriating boy she loved. This time she found no nervousness.

Only determination.

_Two_

"Draco?" she asked, coolly.

His hand, which he had in his pocket, was removed. "Hermione," he said again. He gripped her hand tighter, and stepped half a step backwards.

Onto his knee.

_One_

The cheers were muted and every one else in the park seemed to disappear. Her breath became short, and her eyes wide.

Holding a small box in his palm, he looked up into her face with such love, it almost frightened her. Still holding her right hand, he held the box up with his right and opened it.

_Happy New Years, Hermione._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Cringe. _It was horrible, wasn't it? I told you, I've always wanted to be proposed to like that. I am _such _a _girl_ sometimes.


End file.
